THE PERFECT COMPROMISE

Sailing was never going to be our family hobby. My father bought a GP 14 sailing dinghy, sans rag and stick, and stuck a JAP outboard motor on the back end. However, powerboating did not get off to a very auspicious start, either. Dad took my brother Stewart off for a ride and it ended as quickly as it had begun, sinking in 12 inches of water. They had struck the stump of a telegraph pole that had been installed on Blackrock Beach during World War II to stop enemy aircraft from landing. After the war it had worked just as effectively, however, this time thwarting invaders from the Midlands instead of abroad.

Time passed and the – equipped with sterndrive power rather than an unreliable outboard motor. In those days even inboards weren’t faultless, and cautious powerboaters had an auxiliary outboard. Ours was a Seagull, which fortunately we never needed to use in anger, but Dad would insist on making sure it was in working order by running it up and occasionally bringing us back into harbour.